Seneca,

“I shall give you also a lesson: Set aside a certain number of days, during which you shall be content with the scantiest and cheapest fare, with coarse and rough dress, saying to yourself the while: “Is this the condition that I feared?” It is precisely in times of immunity from care that the soul should toughen itself beforehand for occasions of greater stress, and it is while Fortune is kind that it should fortify itself against her violence.”

Sadly, such practices are not nearly as common amongst Stoics as you would think.  Maybe more of us have stolen over to the Garden while no one was listening.  Instead, they manipulate and twist the idea of ‘preferred indifferents’ to cover and hide all manner of vices.

I don’t have anything to add, or disagree with.  Your letter is well taken.
Farewell.

Part of Michel Daw’s Reading Plan of Seneca’s Letters.

Seneca,

“Take my advice; call wisdom into consultation; she will advise you not to sit for ever at your ledger. Doubtless, your object, what you wish to attain by such postponement of your studies, is that poverty may not have to be feared by you. But what if it is something to be desired? Riches have shut off many a man from the attainment of wisdom; poverty is unburdened and free from care.”

It has been my position for some time now, that when folks say ‘wealth is a preferred indifferent,’ they misunderstand the issue.  Preference in the ἀδιάφορα (adiaphora) is determined by the thing’s conduciveness to our own virtue.

The words we’re using here are :

• προηγμένα (proêgmena) meaning ‘preferred indifferents,’
•  ἀπροηγμένα (aproêgmena) meaning ‘dispreferred indifferents.’

It might stand to reason, then, that what is preferred to one is dispreferred to another.  For instance, if having a certain amount of money keeps one from doing unvirtuous things to live, then it could be argued that such an amount of wealth is preferred (albeit not required).  However, for another, he may find that austerity and temperate use of things is more conducive to his virtue, in which case that amount of wealth that the first man prefers is dispreferred by the second man.

I suppose the rub lie in being able to accurately determine where those lines fall in regards to ourselves.

We see the common list of προηγμένα (proêgmena), life, health, pleasure, beauty, strength, wealth, good reputation, and noble birth.  However, it seems to me that such a thing is much more personal than this mere list could suggest.

With those thoughts in mind, I bid you a fond farewell.

Part of Michel Daw’s Reading Plan of Seneca’s Letters.

Seneca,

“You must persevere, must develop new strength by continuous study, until that which is only a good inclination becomes a good settled purpose”

This seems to tie into ‘virtue’ being able to be described as ‘consistent character.’  It is certainly do-able to make the advisable choice once, or even twice, or for a period of days.

Keeping one’s thoughts in order, laboring under the guide of philosophy, day in and day out for weeks, months, years seems to be another thing entirely.

That consistency which is built over those longer terms is much harder, and it often seems to fall back on the fundamentals.  The basic practices and precept of our school are both the cure, and where the problem lies.

Indeed, it’s easy to delude one’s self in lofty thoughts and grandiose philosophy, while letting the simple and basic practices slip away.  Thank you for the timely reminder.

Farewell.

Part of Michel Daw’s Reading Plan of Seneca’s Letters.

“Sometimes a vessel perishes in harbour; but what do you think happens on the open sea? And how much more beset with danger that man would be, who even in his leisure is not secure, if he were busily working at many things!”

Ah, dear Seneca, a ship may be safer in the harbor, but that’s not what ships are for.

I do have to say, I quite like the phrase “thinking-shop” I may have to make use of that, if you’ll permit the borrowing.

“One must therefore take refuge in philosophy; this pursuit, not only in the eyes of good men, but also in the eyes of those who are even moderately bad, is a sort of protecting emblem.”

For much of the West today, this has changed, I’m sorry to report.  Philosophers are seen as academics indulging in intellectual masturbation at best, or at worst is a waste of time.  It’s quite sad.

Possibly, this is due to the fact that there are very few people “doing” philosophy.  “Philosophy as a way of life” is enjoying a very mild upswing, nominally, at least.

I do heartily agree that the desires of the mob are something we should be wary of.  I’m not sure it’s within our power to not excite the greed or hostility in others, but it is fair to say we should live modestly.  Yet, we should most definetly avoid the toxins of hate, greed, and scorn.

My interest in the ascetic regimen of Musonius is kicking back up, so we’ll see how that goes over the next few weeks and months.  I’ll report back, if you’re interested.

Farewell.

Part of Michel Daw’s Reading Plan of Seneca’s Letters.

Seneca,

I think I’ve said before in our letters that for the past year, thereabouts, I’ve been mostly a student of Musonius Rufus with some Epictetus tossed in for good measure.  Coming from that perspective, I must disagree with your statement of the previous letter which strikes me as decidedly Epicurean in nature.

“Let us, however, in so far as we can, avoid discomforts as well as dangers, and withdraw to safe ground, by thinking continually how we may repel all objects of fear.”

I would counter it with this Fragment of Musonius, in which he uses the metric of the Epicurean to show the position is untenable in regards to pleasure being a good, and avoidance of pain an evil:

“If one were to measure what is agreeable by the standard of pleasure, nothing would be pleasanter than self-control; and if one were to measure what is to be avoided by pain, nothing would be more painful than lack of self-control.”

— Musonius, Fragment XXIV

Musonius’ example, even by the Epicurean criteria, proves the Stoic doctrine.  How can it be then, dear Seneca, that you would hail back to the Epicurean valuation?  In the same piece, you note that an abundance of worry over the body results in a lesser valuation of virtue, yet you say one should bend to that same pressure and withdraw from worldly suffering.

Did not Socrates and Cato, and yes even your own self, choose death over the will of the tyrant?  How can it be then, that the Sage would avoid the civil authorities?  Your own integrity demanded death over acquiescence,and a truly noble one it was, Sir.

No, the Sage would do what is fitting:  which might mean exile, challenging the civil authorities in the face of injustice, or even death.

Come back to the porch, Seneca, we miss you!  (;

Farewell.

Part of Michel Daw’s Reading Plan of Seneca’s Letters.

Seneca,

“And even though it is ordained to be, what does it avail to run out to meet your suffering? You will suffer soon enough, when it arrives; so look forward meanwhile to better things.”

It seems you’ve been hanging out in the Garden a bit much, of late.  This looking forward to better things might be a reasonable pedagogical step for the new student.  It’s probably better for the average person’s mental equilibrium.  But for we philosophers of the Stoic school, ἀταραξία (ataraxia) should not be a goal.  It might be a pleasant ancillary benefit, but our focus should be elswhere.

While the ἰδιῶται (idiotai) or ‘uninstructed persons’ might simply be seeking relief from mental anguish (understandable), others of us earnestly desire progress of a different sort.

My worry, is that since your early letters assume someone new to our School, that many readers will take these precepts as indicative of the School, and not the mere pedagogical technique of appealing to an eclectic brand of help which I suspect it to be.

It is with that caveat, I bid you farewell.

Part of Michel Daw’s Reading Plan of Seneca’s Letters.

Seneca,

If I may quote from today’s letter:

“We do not put to the test those things which cause our fear; we do not examine into them; we blench and retreat just like soldiers who are forced to abandon their camp because of a dust-cloud raised by stampeding cattle, or are thrown into a panic by the spreading of some unauthenticated rumour.”

It seems to be very hard to actually be in the present.  Will you take for granted that our ruling faculty is presented with impressions from the mind as well as from the sense organs?  That memory, and thought are given up to us, similarly to the sights and sounds of the world?  The mind seems to constantly scan forward and back in time.  Forward, looking for problems, and backward looking for past solutions.

From an evolutionary standpoint, that makes a tremendous amount of sense.  Yet, we find ourselves then pinned down by it, constantly planning and plotting for the future, and meditating and masticating the joys and pains of the past.  We chew them so much, they’ve taken on a bitter taste, it seems.

We lament, for actions taken poorly, and for opportunities missed.  For the hurts we thoughtlessly, and sometimes intentionally, have given to others.  For the hurts and scars we ourselves bear.

But other than in memory, or the sting of it, these things do not exist.  We cannot catch them in our teeth.  We can recall them, but then the judgment is ours once again.

Just another impression.

So, we then must ask, how do we weigh it?  Do we assent to the hurt, or the joy?  Are we made better, more virtuous by it?  Or is it merely another rumor from the street?

Whispers of a forgotten pain.  Hints of previous pleasures.

Farewell.

Part of Michel Daw’s Reading Plan of Seneca’s Letters.

“On all sides lie many short and simple paths to freedom; and let us thank God that no man can be kept in life.”

Freedom is a tricky thing.  We learn about it first through negatives.  All children have an instinctual aversion to being controlled by parents.  When they are so young they can only toddle, they resent the corrective hand of the parent.

There seems to be something in our very make-up that demands on autonomy, control, self-esteem, and ability.  Yet, nearly every social, religious, governmental, and cultural system is bent in the opposite way.

We seem torn, recognizing that we ourselves as individuals deserve autonomy and independence, yet unwilling or unable to trust our fellows with the same.

Is that we’re so different them, are we so much better?  The paradox is, we can hardly find a man in such a state as to be able to govern himself, yet we set all manner of incompetents up to govern others.

The philosopher may be an outlier.  The philosopher recognizes that his actions, impulses, and intent need to be shaped… but by himself.  How many accounts do we have of philosophers easily and willing accepting exile, death, and the like rather than turn over their integrity and autonomy?  Are these not our most hallowed paragons of the schools?

Indeed, it is so.  Freedom is hard, because the amount one wants, one has to be willing to give as well.  We do not seem to be able to do so however.

Maybe the Cynics had it right, leaving behind the polis and all the trappings (pun intended) of society.  To live free upon the earth, a citizen unto himself:  a king in his own right… ah, what a thing.

But it’s hard.  There’s no amount of faltering that’s acceptable if one wants to be a Diogenes.  I could probably settle for an Epictetus or Musonius, though.

As it were, and with thoughts of the true freedom of the philosopher, I bid you a fond farewell.

Part of Michel Daw’s Reading Plan of Seneca’s Letters.

Seneca,

I can remember well the feeling of being immortal in my teenage years.  Of course, we “knew” we could and would die, but we didn’t feel like it.  Then, a few years out from my thirties, I began to feel … uncomfortable.

At 28, I hadn’t done the things that younger-me had assumed I would.  I hadn’t made the progress, I hadn’t built the life I expected.  The endless-time of youth was passing, and I was starting to glimpse a deadline, if you will.

Lately, I’ve come to accept, and maybe even started to appreciate entropy as it relates to myself… but less so as it does to others.  My perspective has changed even since I started studying philosophy.

Memento mori is starting to mean something different that it used to for me.  I’m not sure that it’s sweeter, as you say.  But it’s definitely a different vintage… but maybe we’re just more able to appreciated the bitter bite.

Farewell.

Part of Michel Daw’s Reading Plan of Seneca’s Letters.

Seneca,

You keep snagging little bits of Epicurus, if you’re not careful, you may pique my interest in that other camp.  I jest, but I’m surprised to find that the Epicureans might have also used to the model of the Sage… although Epicurus probably had himself in mind.

For we must indeed have someone according to whom we may regulate our characters; you can never straighten that which is crooked unless you use a ruler.

This time last year, I was engaged in a project in which I made use of the Sage, but I admit, the practice has fallen away.  Thank you for the reminder.

Farewell.

Part of Michel Daw’s Reading Plan of Seneca’s Letters.